Can you stop trying so hard - Part 4 in 'The boys of baker Street' ser
by TooManyChoices
Summary: In which John is off-balance, Sherlock get's annoyed, and a truce is called. Follows immediately on from 'What are your intentions'. Nudity, major fluff, and STILL pre-slash. John's POV Thanks for all the wonderful feedback, if you keep enjoying it, I'll keep writing it! Reviews heartily appreciated. Still rating M to be safe.


John had detoured past the linen cupboard for some towels, leaving Sherlock to make his way to the bathroom on the second floor alone. It felt strange to be apart, even for so brief a time after the intense experiences of the past 12 hours. _God, I'm like a randy teenager again, i should be able to keep my hands off him for ten minutes, surely?_

He heard the water begin to flow through the old pipes and silently blessed Mrs Hudson for upgrading the bathroom for previous tenants with a double shower, heated towel rails and decent lighting. There was hot water, and plenty of it, something of a necessity given the mess that he and Sherlock often arrived home in.

But today, there were other plans for the bathroom, and another mess to clean up. John tried again unsuccessfully to adjust his underwear to regain some comfort. The events of earlier that day may have been exciting, new and probably the hottest sexual experience he'd ever had but he was remembering quickly why teenagers grew out of this phase. Walking back toward the bathroom with two large towels he seriously considered simply throwing his jeans and underwear in the bin on the way past as a way of avoiding the entire clean-up operation.

All mundane thoughts of laundry fled his mind as he rounded the bathroom door and found Sherlock, stripped stark naked, standing in profile in the steamy bathroom, neck stretched, face turned toward the ceiling and his hands on the small of his back. _What...I...how? _John's carefully constructed reality where he was completely comfortable progressing the relationship further crumbled under the reality that this was the first time he'd seen Sherlock naked. The towels fell from his numb hands and he had to reach out to grip the door frame to slow his descent as his knees gave out and he slid to kneel on the floor. _What the HELL am I doing?_

"John? What is it John, are you unwell." Completely unselfconsciously _and he certainly had NOTHING to be self-conscious about _Sherlock strode across the room to tower over his fallen friend, unfortunately bringing Sherlock's still majestic erection almost level with John's eyeline. _Oh this just gets better all the time_ John thought wryly.

"Sherlock, can you just...step back a bit...please"

"Why?" As Sherlock looked down still trying to understand what had befallen him, John pointedly looked from Sherlock's eyes, to his crotch, then back to his eyes again desperately willing for some of Sherlock's lightning genius to put the pieces together without him having to explain.

"Oh….I see."

"No, it's fine Sherlock. It was just a bit, well sudden. Just when I think I've got my head around this, and I have my feet under me, something happens and now I have you in front of me naked and...well, NAKED and...impressive...and...tall...and...NAKED! And now I have your genitals in front of my face and...I'm..." _I'm_ _not coping!_ He could see the doubt rising in Sherlock's eyes and could virtually feel Sherlock working through scenarios and calculations inside his head "...and...I'll…be...fine. Just give me a moment to pull myself together."

Sherlock stepped back, giving John the space he needed and looked thoughtful and somewhat troubled. Taking a deep breath, Sherlock nodded briefly as he arrived at some conclusion and turned to collect his discarded robe from the floor. Thinking he'd probably just ruined everything by his little display of hysterics, John pushed himself to his feet and reached out.

"Sherlock wait!"

"No John, you wait." Sherlock wasn't angry, John could hear that in his tone, however he knew that he was about to get a lesson on reality as described by the mind of Sherlock Holmes. _Come on then, tell me what an insensitive prick I__'m being and that you__'re fed up with nurse-maiding my dramatic overreactions._

"John…._._" Sherlock shrugged into the robe and tied it around his waist. Turning back he continued, "You seem determined to reach some imagined destination at a set time regardless of whether the passengers are prepared for the journey. You are a Doctor, John and you've been a soldier. You are conditioned to consider alternatives, plan, and then implement. It is your nature and why you are an effective colleague. But in this, in this…relationship that we've embarked on you appear to have willingly put aside all your better instincts and pushing yourself beyond your own ability to adapt. It's not like you and I find myself discomforted at how hard you are trying to construct this artificial roadmap. I…..thought you wanted this to work?"

"I do Sherlock, I do. Mycroft said…."

"Ah, my brother" Sherlock's face lightened as if a missing piece had been slotted into place, "I should have suspected his misguided…assistance in this. Come with me John."

Sherlock pushed past John and into the hallway, John trailed after working through the meaning behind Sherlock's words, comforted by the familiar logic but then unsettled as Sherlock pushed open John's bedroom door and stepped inside, "Come along John, I need you to see this."

Inside John's room, Sherlock was leaning over John's desk, writing something in large black letters on a piece of printer paper. He then looked up, scanned along John's line of books, settled on a particular spot, held up the paper first to John and then toward the bookshelf. The paper said, simply **Not this room! **He then leaned forward, finding the hidden camera nestled there, and turned it 180 degrees so it faced toward the back of the case.

"That's one" Sherlock muttered as he headed out the room, paper still in hand.

Stopping in the bathroom, he amended the sign, **Not this room!...Either! **Pointed the sign at the ventilation grate, then reached up, opened the grate and repeated the rotation movement, obscuring the vision of the camera there.

"That's two" He was off again, this time to the lounge. He stood in the doorway and scanned the room, thinking.

Finally, He flipped the sign over and wrote **You can have this half of the room****…NOT John****'s chair **before holding the sign first in the direction of a picture frame on one wall, and then to the bookcase. He then went to both places and turned the cameras, checking alignment.

Clearly satisfied at the boundaries he'd established, he balled up the paper and tossed it on the coffee table and walked to the kitchen, settling in one of the chairs. "Now we can talk about this."

"Mycroft has a camera in my room?" _Of course Mycroft had a camera in my room _

"Mycroft has cameras in every room however, given his interference in an area he has virtually no experience, I will not allow his continued unfettered access to our lives. He's crossed a line John and I have now made it clear that his 'help' is unappreciated. His concern was unjustified, I had….HAVE…every expectation that your natural reticence will diminish in time and that things will progress…naturally. WITHOUT HIS HELP" This last was said very clearly and at a volume designed to carry to any lurking microphones.

"So…."

"So - can we, and to be clear John I mean you, please just stop trying to pre-emptively guess what I want you to do, and when I want you to do it and just stop…trying so hard. It's annoying."

This was the Sherlock that John knew, the coldly logical yet intuitive mind that cut to the core of the matter and laid it all out. The man who became frustrated that the truth he could see with brilliant clarity wasn't as crystal clear to everyone around him. The man who, apparently, knew John a great deal better than he thought he knew himself.

John weighed his next words carefully before saying simply, "I'm making a cup of tea. Want one?" because that's what he wanted to say, it's what 'instinctively' the moment called for. The question came out easily, naturally and as the words left his mouth, he felt as if the ground steadied under his feet for the first time that day.

"Yes please." Sherlock's troubled face eased into a gentler smile and added, "Oh and John?"

"Yes?"

"Better" The simple word reinforcing that John had returned to a more familiar path.

"Better?"

"Much better. Oh…and John"

"Mmmmm?"

"You may want to change out of those jeans at some point, or you'll get a rash"


End file.
